Snape's Secretive Song
by Enigmatix
Summary: OOC Warning A few years after the defeat of Voldemort, Harry is stuck in a stupid job as a license cop. He goes in to check the license of a gay bar and who does he find singing on stage? Severus Snape himself!


(After the defeat of Voldemort)

(Some dirty side of London)

Harry took the slim gold case initialled with H.J.P on its cover and flicked it open. Taking a slim cigarette out, he closed it back, flicked the lighter and ignited the tip of the cigarette. He took a long pull from the other side and surveyed the narrow, dark and shadowed alleyway. What a filthy hellhole he thought as his green eyes glazed over the cracked wooden crates, darkly stained concrete tiled walls of the buildings and carelessly tossed garbage that lay about. Someone was warming up on a drum set behind one of the doors around him, someone with skill.

He glanced around the alleyway one more time and then slid his clipboard from beneath his right arm. Scanning the list from top to bottom, he identified the name of the local pub and checked the lot number. It was 15. How in the world could a pub be located in such a dark hellhole as this? He thought as his eyes travelled over the various doors and then he found 'The Dirty Dollar'. Harry took another pull at the cigarette, huffed out a cloud of smoke and used his finger to slide his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. Looking around once again, he strode forward with purpose, which was such required on the job.

And what a fucked up job it was. Anyone would have thought that the 'Chosen One' would have ended up being some showy ministry official after the defeat of Voldemort. He should have been sitting at home with a large mug of beer in one hand, toasting to a luxury filled mansion and life. But no. He had become a cop. How had he become a cop? Simple. With Voldemort gone, no one had any reason to pay attention to him and so the flame had died out after awhile and then he found himself a job as a License Checking Cop. And what a fancy title...considering that the pay sucked, and that his life was now summarised into two highly chosen words of his: fucked up.

Pushing the double doors open, he strode in and what hit his nose could have made Hermione choke and vomit. The place reeked with the smell of stale whisky and sex mixed with sweat and dank wood. He swiped an arm under his nose and tentatively walked forward, feeling at ease once more when he felt his Glock pressing against his upper thigh. He'd use it if he had to, so far he had had no reason to use it and it had been six years. There was one man he'd willingly use it one though, but that man hadn't surfaced for years. That's right. Severus Snape had gone missing since the war had ended. Probably fled to the Caribbean to get the freedom he wanted.

'What can I do for you, Officer?' the stocky barman asked and Harry eyed him warily.

He looked like a George Lopez double with a Santa beard. Harry couldn't help but snort.

'Let me see your bar license.'

The barman eyed him back warily and his eyes narrowed. Not once had someone snorted at him. Noone would dare it but since this fellow was a cop, he figured that he'd have to take it. Flexing his arms and cracking his knuckles as he went, he felt the cop's eyes on him. Fucking public officials coming in here and behaving like if they owned the bloody place. He took his time in getting the paperwork. In the mean time, Harry studied the interior of the bar.

It was a crowded place. He watched as the line lights along the stage began to flicker as the tempo of the drummer sped up. And that was when Harry realised what situation he was in. A full size Amazon Drag Queen sashayed up the aisle and as she went past Harry, he received a wink that sent a wave of guilt along his spine. He spotted another, then another and another and his head began to spin with confusion of colours and red lipstick. The Amazon transvestite came past him again and winked. And Harry suddenly realised how long it had been since he had been battling with his sexuality. What was it...seven years now that he was gay? Was it chance that had brought him here?

Never before had he been faced with checking the license of a gay bar!

The barman was back with his paperwork and as he passed it across to Harry, his eyes focused on the face one more time and his eyes widened.

'Bloody hell it's Harry Potter', he said and whistled but Harry kept his cool.

'And you're George Lopez', he said curtly the flicked through the license book. 'You haven't updated yet for this year, Mr', and he checked the name, 'Mr Antonio.'

'Well it's quite a hassle down at that bloody office ain't it? That long line there every damn day.'

'I'm going to have to charge you', Harry said without emotion. 'For being lazy.'

'Now just because you are the famous Harry Potter doesn't mean that you can boss people around. Your days have passed!'

'And who is the cop here?'

'You are but look here I ain't taking no charge. I'll get down there tomorrow and update it, just give me a break will ya?'

And then the microphone was placed near the drum set and there was the clinking of numerous chains and bangles. Harry casually turned around to glance at the stage and saw a pale black haired transvestite stepping on to the stage wearing a tight red leather dress with extremely high red heels. He didn't even care to look more but turned to the barman who was also looking at the performance.

'That a regular you know. Name's the Half Blood Princess. Quite a performer on nights like these and I have no objections to it 'cause she brings in the money.'

The 'Half Blood Princess'? Harry thought and shook it off. Na, what a coincidence it was that Snape used to call himself the 'Half Blood Prince'.

'I don't care about that. What I care about is your license.'

'_She comes down the lane, sashaying in her leather,_

_High heels on, she's never under the weather'_

'Well don't charge me, I'll pay it tomorrow!'

Harry's forehead creased as he heard that voice...na.

'We can't have that now can we? I have to charge you.'

_'What Lola wants...Lola wants,_

_Lola gets...Lola gets'_

Harry's head spun around sharply and he studied the transvestite on stage. She was pale, had shoulder length black hair, her nose was hooked...and then her eyes met Harry's and she stumbled over the words of the song. He felt a sharp pain within his chest at the sight before him and swallowed hard.

BLOODY HELL IT WAS SEVERUS SNAPE!


End file.
